My mother and I had a spat today. Or a discussion. Or an argument. It really depends on who you ask. But call it what you want.
One of the things that came up was my life. Yes, broad, I know. But she seems to feel I live two lives. My “real” life and my “blogging” life. She made no direct mention of who I am in “real” life, but told me my “blogging” life is my “wild side”.
I cannot say I agree with this. The last several months have been downright depressing on my blog! It’s been a struggle to write ANYTHING remotely resembling my typical upbeat, sarcastic and jovial personality. I have only a small idea of what could be really going on with my body, my bloodsugars have gone batshit crazy, I had to move….Am I wrong? Is that wild? By ANY means?
I call it sad. A little pathetic. And most unfortunate. I’d like to be on a fun, maybe a little wild adventure, not a medical war zone with a faint light of answers through the current dark ominous muddle of clouds. I have three tattoos and a few piercings, I’ve had many different hair colors and I like change. But I’m at peace in the outdoors, in a book, wrapped in a blanket in front of a window and love taking time to myself. Tattoos, piercings and hair color don’t make a person wild. In today’s world, I’d venture to say they’re normal.
Or maybe my blog is wild in other ways. Frankly, I’m too tired and trying too hard to grasp tightly onto the smallest piece of togetherness still in me to really care and to put in the effort to figure out what she means. In my mind this blog could use a little wildness and a little less sadness. But, that’s just me. Maybe I’m wrong.
*Thank you everyone in the DOC for sticking with me. For listening to my sad rambling. For listening. For being friends. For being honest. For everything. I have no idea what I’d do without you.*